Sniper
by Perun Lock
Summary: Continuation of 'yellow14's story 'Sniper'. Cheers mate. As ISAF retreats, one Sniper makes his stand. Characters are all fictional and my own. Based in Strangereal.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: Not my story! I'm sorry if I got this wrong or there are any inaccuracies in the story line, I'm not actually too familiar with the Ace Combat campaign(S). I should secondly and most importantly give credit to 'yellow 14'. Without his permission and story ('sniper') I could not have made this. I love military history, weaponology and other similar subjects so I was drawn to this. I hope to make a few occasional spin offs so if you enjoy it let me know? Cheers! **__**Dieu et mon droit!**_

_It had been four days since the Generals death. It had taken the soldiers all of one day to find the cartridge. As soon as he left the FFP (final firing position) he'd realised his amateur mistake. He was one of the best in ISAF's sniper and stealth division (known as Detached Reconnaissance Unit 45 within ISAF territory or 'bastard' Sniper(s) externally). The Sniper had truly kicked himself when the infantryman had picked up the solitary gold cartridge. In fact he'd pulled another mistake and allowed steamy breath to rise from beneath the mask of his Ghillie suit. Ah well. A few hours and he'd be on his way. The Erusians had been steadily pushing ISAF's troops eastward gaining what they thought were excellent victories all along the border of the Federation. In fact, the Erusians had seen nothing of their enemy in nearly four days of gruelling campaign. What they thought was unorganised retreat was tactical withdrawal. The Erusians were a hardy people and had earned their respect as local experts. Inside ISAF territory however they had little knowledge, and San Salvatore could easily be retaken. No, ISAF would wait for their Battle Groups in the west to arrive before mounting the counter offensive. In the mean time Sniper One would move out._

The radio crackled into life as Private Jackson Kowinski, sipped a cup of, what was frankly horrendous acorn coffee.

"Sarge how long do you reckon we'll be fighting ISAF for?"

The sergeant was battle hardened veteran of war. He had previously served as a mercenary, only signing up to the army in penance for his brother's death at the hands of an Erusian firing squad. Breathing lightly he replied.

"All I can say is, don't get to comfy with that Coffee. ISAF are a strong Federation... My apologies, a strong Confederation. I expect this apparent lull to last no longer than a few days if we're lucky."

He looked at the young private as if yearning to say more. Sighing inwardly he returned to cleaning his weapon.

_A figure no bigger than your littlest finger on a hill more than three miles away, dressed in full body camouflage. There was no way any sentry would see him._

The noise of the camp seemingly dispersed and the two men were left together with a few Rangers from Bravo Company. One of the Rangers spoke

"Sergeant sir."

Gesturing with a wary arm the Sarge barely looked from his weapon as the man saluted.

"Sergeant!"

A new voice this time, one of comfort and relaxation. This man was clearly top brass.

"_I don't have to psych myself up, or do something special mentally – I look through the scope, get my target in the crosshairs and kill my enemy."_

"Sir!"

The sergeant had jumped to his feet behind his weapon. Saluting he began to apologise but the man waved him away.

"Sergeant, I am sure you are well aware of our advance, of its pace and relative ease, but I realise that will not last. But for now we must use this apparent... Advantage and take San Salvatore..."

_The target appeared to be giving a speech to the men around the tent. His guard were relaxed and morale was high. Although victory was essential, its effects could blunt battle hardened troops of their instinct for war. It could feel like they had won it when in fact they had only won a battle._ _In one way, he felt disinclined to assassinate this man. It would only serve to enlighten the enemy as to their location in a warzone. Was it not better to keep them in a false sense of security? Ahh. It was not for him to decide._

_It had been a few hours since he had found his new FFP. It was a 'Y' shaped tree, where he could cradle his rifle, a Dragunov SVDS, comfortably. The stock rested in the crease of his shoulder ready to release the jolt of a shot. His cheek lay on the barrel and one dark green eye remained open staring down the barrel of the rifle. The scope was new. With 4x24 zoom it was perfect for this job. A few adjustments to the lenses and he was staring into the enemies face._

_The Erusian Colonel was wearing spotless uniform. The coat was creased in all the right places, the shoes were polished, his black trench coat was clean and the ten gold buttons glowed distinctly in the suns early-morning glow. This man was a walking, talkin', gift wrapped target for just about any sniper. It would be one of the easiest shots he had made._

Kowinski had zoned out. He knew he shouldn't. He tried but he daydreamed incessantly. Men had begun to mill around the little gathering and now the Colonel was addressing around fifty men, all unperturbed and smiling, lapping up every word. He almost laughed at their stupidity ho-

A single shot broke the early morning din.

The creased face of the Colonel slowly became still. His last laugh- No longer etched on his unsmiling face. In the distance a Jet crossed the skyline, leaving only a supersonic whirr. His body fell to the muddy ground no longer Human, but a useless, lifeless, soulless vessel. The man had been dead long before he'd hit the ground. A single shot to the temple had penetrated his cranium killing him instantly. Before the shout of 'Sniper!' could ring out across the camp, Kowinski and three of his companions were lying dead on the muddy floor. The others stayed down long after the Sniper had gone.

_Before he left he picked up a small rock from the forest floor and etched on to the barrel a further four lines. The four spent cartridges he placed in a pouch on his belt. Smiling he cradled the rifle; there'd be no more mistakes. Glancing around he ran into the forest at full sprint. Quickly the tree that had cradled the barrel of the rifle was left alone once again and the clearing was immersed in the sounds of the forest..._


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: Not my story! I'm sorry if I got this wrong or there are any inaccuracies in the story line, I'm not actually too familiar with the Ace Combat campaign(S). I should secondly and most importantly give credit to 'yellow 14'. Without his permission and story ('sniper') I could not have made this. I love military history, weaponology and other similar subjects so I was drawn to this. I hope to make a few occasional spin offs so if you enjoy it let me know? Cheers! **__**Dieu et mon droit!**_

_I am a stone. I will not move. When I do it is slow. My breaths are deep. My exhalations short. My finger is on the trigger. My scope is optimised for four-nought-fifty metres. I am ready.___

_The convoy below me snaked onward, undisturbed and unaware. Erusian insignia was stencilled on most of the vehicles. Sighing inwardly I pulled myself away from the prone position I was in. My rifle, a modified Dragunov SVDS, was swathed in a cotton 'blanket' to smother the sound of a shot.___

_It had been nearly three days since the last kill. I had expected to reach Army Group West by now, but they were nowhere to be seen. The Erusian convoys, many of them, had passed across the country either undetected or deliberately unhindered. Both options were bewildering to the Sniper. The tactics were off.___

_Growing up we had been told of the military's strength, its prowess, its invulnerability. And yet in the Snipers short career he had seen little of this elite fighting force.___

_The convoy below him came to an end. It was a massive two-kilometre stretch of armour and supply wagons. Soldiers rode on the vehicles and massive artillery pieces were pulled on flatbed trucks.___

_'Somebody's gonna get an almighty fuck over' the Sniper thought to himself.___

_Just as I was about to turn away I noticed a final vehicle, a Crusader 4x4, open top driving slowly along the lane, a cloud of dust billowing up behind it. Mentally I noted marks along the path the road took, these were fence posts spaced about 4 metres from each other, and judging from the number past in a space of time I realised it was doing about 14 km/h. Well within the effective, operational range of my Dragunov.___

_One again I went prone, my weapons collapsible bi-pod fell from the barrel and I rested the stock in the crux of my shoulder. Looking through the scope I could see zoomed in, the blurry interior of the jeep. Adjusting the sights a few clicks I brought the driver and his passenger into definition.___

_The passenger had a dark green helmet on, on the back was an orange diamond with the number 'one' painted in black within it, on the front were two, white vertical bars.___

_All other signs of rank had been pulled from his uniform, he wore standard infantry fatigues, a mix of grey, brown and green camouflage. His stature however was given away by the usual signs of an inexperienced, pompous NCO. He had a silk scarf tucked in around his neck, his overcoat was spotless, his folded map poked out from his chest pocket and he even had the audacity to hold a shiny new pair of binoculars in his left hand.__  
_

The radio crackled

"Sundrake Major? Sundrake Major? This is Ironside Niner."

I picked up the radio but remained with one hand on the wheel.

"Ironside Niner this is Sundrake Minor, what is it?"

"Oh no worries Sundrake, just needed a Sitrep on your status, we just lost visual on you"

"Ahh we're about three k's behind Ironside, we'll be with you shortly"

"Roger that. Over and Out"

Placing the handset back on its cradle I sped the jeep up a little. The ticker began to rise. A glint on the hill to our left caught my eye.

_Milliseconds later the glint became the sharp crack of a bullet being released.___

_The Officers head snapped backwards and a small red circle appeared in his blue beret. The jeep swerved one way and then the other as its operator lost control. The jeep twisted away to the right hand side and then to the left, spun, and turned over, crashing violently off the track.___

_When the sniper saw movement he was almost half surprised. The NCO crawled from the vehicle and sat against the side of the wreck. Creasing his eyebrows the sniper sighed he stood up from his hiding place and walked forward into the open on the side of the hill. Even from 500 metres the NCO recognised the form his Death had taken. Slowly and dramatically the sniper raised the rifle and a single squeeze on the trigger let the 7.62 mm piece of metal leave the barrel. It covered 500 metres in less than a second and entered the man's cranium. His head fell forward onto his chest and he was still.___

_Walking over to him I pulled what I'd thought was a map from his pocket. Pulling it out I realised it was in fact a memo of orders. It read:__  
_  
'Sgt-Maj. Trent

ISAF are running. We have them on the back foot. Eastern seaboard expected to be cleared in less than 48 hours. Press on to Comberth. ISAF forces already dispersed.'

I couldn't believe it. I was at least 400 miles behind our apparent shambles of a front line and likely to be the last operational ISAF soldier on the continent in under two days.

_If this second strength unit was being sent to Comberth the fight must be stronger at St Ark.___

_Located in the northern steppes, St Ark was the third largest port on the continent. Largest commercial port certainly, containers piled in stories of 12 lined the city like a metal rainforest. Bitter wind, icy rain and snow engulfed the place year round. Certainly, this trip up north would be fun.___

_Drily, I coughed, spat and placed my weapon on my back. I'd get a nights rest and press on a few k's tomorrow._


End file.
